


Here You Come Again

by Bluesmoke (NotSharon)



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-03-20 15:38:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13720734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSharon/pseuds/Bluesmoke
Summary: Trixie hadn't thought she'd stay with him. Maybe at first, maybe when they'd first met and he'd been sweet and had long hair. But three years later they were still together, and Trixie was crumbling, she was falling apart and she knew it. She hadn't wanted to end up like her mom, with a boyfriend who hit her when he felt like it. She was alone and lost, lost until she meets someone- someone who turns her world upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning for domestic violence.

“That’s not my fucking fault, Nick!”

Trixie slammed the door to the car, walking hurriedly past the long-ago green lawn. The whole thing was turning a sad shade of brown around the edges, with the flowers that once bloomed now wilting in their pots. Trixie couldn’t find herself caring much about it. She hadn’t remembered the last time they’d actually had a good time outside. Her heels clicked softly on the pavement, heavier ones following soon after, scuffing on the concrete. Trixie’s hands trembled slightly with the keys as she opened the door, leaning a heavy paper bag of groceries on her hip.

“What did you say?” He asked. His voice raised louder once the door was closed. Trixie recognized the sound of his jacket coming off. It was brown too, like the dead yard. 

It was in the afternoon. Sunday. Still sunny outside, with sunlight coming through the window over the sink. Trixie had somehow thought this week would’ve been different, hell, that this weekend would’ve been different. It wasn’t. It wasn’t different from every other weekend in the past three years of their lives. Nick was being a hard headed angry ass, again. 

It was like clockwork. Fights with Nick always began the same way. Trixie always ended up doing something. It didn’t matter what. Maybe it was something she actually regretted. Maybe. But that was unlikely in its own right. 

“It’s not my fault they didn’t have your fucking protein shakes,” Trixie said bitterly. She started unloading groceries onto the counter, putting down a package of butter on the cheap linoleum. She turned away from Nick, taking out a bag full of celery. Trixie knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. He was going to tell her to be quiet, to shut up, to close her mouth. He was going to say Beatrice, but not in the way her mom used it, or Aunt Loretta. He made it sound bad. He made Trixie hate it.

“You better shut your fucking mouth, Beatrice,” He warned, shoving a bag of oranges onto the counter.

Trixie could hear the anger bubbling up in his voice and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. She turned to look at him, her eyes burning with aggravation. “Yeah, and what? Are you going to fucking hit me again?” She asked, “- So we can go to your mom’s later and tell her I fell at work? Or that I ran into the wall? Really?-”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Nick said, turning around. Trixie saw the familiar flare in his eyes and began stepping backwards, her back against the ugly countertop. He followed and grabbed her arm, fingers suddenly tight around her wrist. Trixie began twisting her arm away, pushing him with her other arm, shoes scuffing softly on the ground as she stepped back. He yanked her closer to his chest. Before Trixie could turn away, his knuckles were hitting her cheek. She wrenched her arm away from him, feeling the pain spread throughout her face.

Nick moved forward. He held Trixie by her neck, pressing his fingers into her throat, “Watch your fucking mouth, Trixie,” he said, looking at her closely. His eye flicked over hers, beginning to water.

“Fuck off,” Trixie said softly, prying his fingers off her neck. She smacked his hand away, shoving him backwards. 

He watched her for a moment before turning away, his gross hands off of Trixie’s neck. They shared a gaze, Trixie’s eyes boring into his head, glaring at him. Maybe he didn’t hear her, maybe he didn’t care. “I’m going to the gym. I want a shake when I get home,” he told her. Nick walked off into their room, and Trixie could hear the sound of his gym bag zipping open.

She turned around, knuckles white as she gripped the counter, hair frizzy, her once sleek ponytail tangled. Trixie breathed in quietly, staring intently at the toaster in front of her. She carefully wiped under her eyelashes, wincing slightly when she felt the tender spot around her eye. Shit. 

Trixie stayed in the kitchen until she heard the front door close, rattling on its hinges. She breathed out quietly, letting her eyes droop closed for a moment. She swallowed the burning feeling in the back of her throat.

Sunday gym meant three hours including traffic. Trixie’s mind had already begun to spin, thinking of grocery stores that would have Nick’s dog shit protein shakes. She put away the rest of the groceries before going into the bathroom, pulling her hair out on the ponytail it had been in, letting it fall past her shoulders. Trixie dug around in her makeup bag, beginning to apply concealer under and around her eye. Fucking hell. She covered up the expression on her face too, going over it with pretty, expensive powder Nick probably spewed shit to her about. It would have to do.

It hadn’t always been like that- with Nick being a dick and hitting her when he felt like it. Trixie remembered college, when they’d met. He’d been sweet, with lame dreams of being a pharmaceutical salesman. Hell, he’d even told Trixie that he wanted children one day, and a dog. A dog. They dated like kids, meeting in their English Lit class as true college students do, with a lot of drinking and awkward dates and dinners. Trixie remembered meeting him for the first time. It was summer, her hair shorter then. She’d been walking outside after class, and he’d run after her as soon as it had ended, making up some stupid excuse about her forgetting her pen. He was cute, and tall, and funny. She ended up giving him her number. 

The first time they went out, he’d held open the door, wearing a tan colored shirt that Trixie spent time teasing him about. He bought them both expensive boba tea. On their third date, after a nice dinner, they had sex. Nick finished in two minutes max, kissing Trixie’s cheek before rolling over to sleep. Trixie had laid there, staring up at the ceiling, holding the sheet over her chest. She remembered wondering if it was always going to be that way, if she was always going to feel that way about him- lacking in something, almost glossy. So far, she had. The sex had always been always boring, and he’d been lame, sure, but he’d also been sweet.

Trixie remembered their first fight too. It had been around four months in- over a party she thought. Something about Nick being a dick at a party. Trixie had gotten jealous and yelled at him for getting too touchy with a girl. In front of the house, in the dark and slightly tipsy, she’d begun talking about breaking up with him and leaving him there, in the driveway, by himself. Before she’d been able to leave he’d grabbed her wrist, pulling her back once she tried to twist away. He slapped her cheek, and without hesitating, Trixie had slapped him back, hard. They walked back inside the house that night, leaving what had happened between them inside the cracks in the concrete. 

In a matter of an hour and fifteen minutes, Trixie had called two grocery stores, personally checked one, and was on the way to the fourth, the car rolling to a stop at the red light. She pulled into the parking lot, breathing out a sigh as she turned off the engine. They’d have the shakes, and everything would be fine, Trixie thought to herself.

She walked through the automatic doors, not bothering with a basket. The store was small, with a few aisles going back and not much else. She could see employees crowded near the cashier, talking about something. The checkered tile caught her attention, reflecting the color of her pink shoes in the white vinyl.

Trixie’s dress swished around her legs as she walked. Some stupid part of her had thought that morning that dressing in something like that, doing her hair nicely and painting her nails would make the reality of Nick go away. She’d thought that perhaps, they wouldn’t fight. Pretty dresses and pretty nails hadn’t ever worked, she didn’t know why she’d thought it would’ve suddenly started.

Trixie made her way to the health food aisle, scanning the shelves quickly, full of vegan powders and fancy trail mixes before sighing in defeat. She leaned down, looking behind a few containers of protein powders. A woman with long, blonde hair, wearing bright red shirt, was bent down beside her, looking to be putting a few boxes of protein bars back beside the others. She looked focused, not noting Trixie’s presence nearby. Trixie let out a quiet breath, chewing on the inside of her cheek before speaking. 

“Hi. Sorry,” Trixie started. She crouched down beside the woman, “Do you know if Johnson’s Men’s Ultra Protein Shakes are sold here?” she asked her.

The woman’s head poked up, and she looked down at her shirt, letting out a sigh, “Oh, I don-” she began. She glanced back to at Trixie, her eyes floating over her before locking onto her face, squinting a little at her. Trixie, who had started looking glancing down the aisle, smiled tightly. “Let me check,” the woman told her. She glanced up to where Trixie had been looking, scanning the shelves before placing her hand on an empty space, short red nails tapping on the metal.

“We shall find help for your lost protein shakes,” She told her decidedly.

Trixie mumbled a great and smiled again at the woman, following her out of the aisle, near the group of other red-shirt-wearing individuals. The woman, blonde hair swishing over her shoulder, tapped someone in a red vest, Robbie written in cursive on his nametag. “Hello. This woman needs help-”

Robbie, presumably, looked over, glancing the woman up and down, glasses resting precariously on his nose, “Katya, I really don’t have time for this,” he said, shooing her away with his hand.

“No. I’m serious this time. This woman-”

“-Trixie,” Trixie butted in.

“Trixie, needs your help. Finding...what was it called again?” Katya asked, sighing. She turned her head, looking to Trixie, standing beside her.

“Johnson’s Men’s Ultra Protein Shakes,” Trixie rattled off. She messed with the brown tassel on her purse. Katya’s accent sounded odd, garbled. Definitely not from Sacramento. She wondered how much time she must’ve spent there at the grocery store to be on not only familiar but bad terms with the supermarket’s employees.

The man she was talking to sighed, “Let me ask Derrick,” he said. Robbie turned around towards the open door in the back of the supermarket. “Derrick!” he shouted loudly. An old woman, clearly startled, looked up from the aisle, slowly placing a bag of what looked like pasta in her shopping cart.

Katya looked over at Trixie and grinned, Derrick she mouthed. Trixie noticed her lipstick, red, and her eyeshadow, black, covering most of her eyelids. She almost snorted, starting to smile.

“Derrick!” The man shouted again, his voice breaking, his face suddenly very red. Trixie winced as his yell echoed in the supermarket. He heaved out a large breath, his hands tightening by his sides.

After a few more beats of silence a man emerged, shuffling from the back of the store, stuffing what looked like a box of cigarettes in the front pocket of his apron. “Did you call me?” he called.

“Yeah. Twice. Do we have any more...what was it again?” Robbie asked tiredly.

“Johnson’s Men’s Ultra Protein Shakes,” Katya insisted quickly, before Trixie could start.

Derrick sighed, “Why did’t you just call me nicely, Robbie. I would’ve come out without you screaming your head off,” he grumbled.

Robbie looked like he was about to explode when Katya leaned over. “They broke up a few days ago. Things are still...tense,” She said quietly,

“Hey, supermarket romances are challenging,” Trixie replied softly, beginning to grin.

Katya just smiled. “Robbie. Listen to me. Focus. You have a customer-” she put her hand on Trixie’s shoulder, “-who needs her Johnson’s Men’s Ultra Protein Shakes. Check the back,” she said slowly.

Robbie closed his eyes, sighing softly. “I’m sorry...it’s just that everything is so fresh with Derrick,” he started, beginning to rub his temples. His eyes drooped for a moment, and Trixie wasn’t sure if he was going to cry. He reopened his eyes, “I’ll find your protein shakes,” he told Trixie suddenly, letting out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a sob, hurrying off to the back and giving Derrick a hard glare.

Trixie breathed out quietly, watching as Robbie and Derrick left with a slightly concerned expression, “How do you know them?” she asked. Her and Katya stood near one another, the strap to Trixie’s bag draped over her shoulder. 

“I used to work here. They fired me, though. I got mad at a few customers- seven tops by the way- and they kicked me to the streets,” Katya sighed exasperatedly.

“So you don’t work here anymore?” Trixie said. She tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Nope,” Katya popped the ‘P’, smiling at her.

“Hence the no name tag,” Trixie continued. She smiled sideways at her, tapping her shirt. 

“Exactly,” Katya said, “But you looked like you were in need of some assistance. And being the kind, charitable individual that I am, I decided to help you, the Barbie.”

Trixie smiled, “And she’s humble too,” she told her. She shifted on her feet lightly, opening her bag to check the time.

“In a hurry?” Katya asked. Her eyes, light green, sparked Trixie’s attention,

“Sort of. I just promised someone I’d get these,” Trixie said. She tapped the heel of her shoe on the ground, starting to type on her phone.

“Roommate?” Katya asked her, distracted. She squinted again at the side Trixie’s face, the line of her mouth forming a thin frown. She let out a soft sigh.

“Boyfriend,” Trixie corrected.

“Ah,” Katya said. Her eyes didn't trail away.

At that moment Derrick was seen rushing towards the front of the store, Robbie in tow, with a four-pack of Johnson’s Men’s Ultra Protein Shakes in his hands. 

“Here you are,” Robbie said. His tears were gone, and he led Trixie over to the cashier line to check out.

Trixie handed him a twenty, taking her receipt and her plastic bag. She looked over to Katya, her step wavering for a moment, “I guess I’ll see you around,” she said to Katya, shrugging. She smiled a bit. “Thanks for the help with the shakes.”

Katya just smiled back, “Sure, Barbie,” she said to her. Trixie noticed her shoes, large, black, platform jelly sandals. They made her smile.

Trixie was walking to her car when she heard her name being called.

“Hey, Trixie!” Katya called out. She jogged over from the entrance of the supermarket to catch up with her. She stared at her a second, not looking Trixie in her eyes or smiling like she had been inside. “I, uh, wanted to give you my number. Just in case you had a problem…” she trailed off. Katya’s eyes drifted again, and she ran her hand through her hair, “-with the shakes, I mean,” she said slowly. She sighed quietly, shifting on her feet.

Trixie blinked for a second as she looked at Katya, silence following her reaction as she studied her expression, “Oh, yeah. Okay,” she said after a moment. Her throat felt dry. She didn’t know what she was feeling. She rummaged around in her bag for the receipt. 

Katya pulled out a pen and scrawled her number onto the paper. “I’m awake most of the time for work. So if you need help or have a problem, just call me,” Katya said attentively. She fidgeted with the bracelet around her wrist, her chipped nails catching the light.

“With the shakes, right?” Trixie asked. She swallowed, taking the receipt back from Katya, folding it neatly. She put it into her wallet.

Katya nodded, looking Trixie in the eyes, “Yeah, with the shakes,” she told her steadily. Her eyes were concentrated on Trixie's, holding her stare with an emotion that Trixie herself couldn’t read. 

“Okay,” she said. 

Katya nodded after a moment, “Well, I guess I should be going,” she said after a moment of silence, taking a step backwards. “Robbie’s probably killed someone by now,” she said, nodding again. “Take care, Trixie,” she told her. 

Even after Katya disappeared back into the store, Trixie remained frozen, holding her wallet tightly in her hands. She finally got herself into the car, turning on the engine and leaning forward to rest her head on the steering wheel. Trixie was silent, hair falling from behind her shoulders, pop music playing softly through the speakers. She was taking a deep breath when her phone began to ring. Kim. Of course. It was Sunday. 

“Hey,” Trixie grabbed for her phone and exhaled before answering. She started turning down the radio, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder. She pulled out of the space, on her way back to the house.

“Hey, Trixie,” Kim said, her lisp causing Trixie to smile faintly. “For a second I thought you forgot,” she told her.

“Kim, it’s been three years of this, I don’t think I’d forget,” Trixie said with a long sigh.

“Well, I know you are a very busy woman. Speaking of busy, I have news,” Kim said. Trixie could imagine her wiggling her eyebrows at her. 

“What a segue. Were you even going to wait for me to ask?” Trixie asked, cracking a grin as she merged onto the freeway.

“Of course not,” Kim scoffed, “I, Kimberly Chi, have gotten a job at Alcone. You remember that makeup place by campus? The good one? With the rich people?”

Trixie laughs, “Yeah, Kim, I remember. We got to drunk and slept on the bench across the street.”

Trixie and Kim had spent the night of their last day of finals walking around their room with two mugs of wine, convincing themselves that they needed to go outside, to “live a little” as Kim had put it. They’d ended up swooning over the sparkly lights inside Alcone, so drunk they’d cried when they saw a new palette, on with “the most beautiful shade of burnt umber” Kim had ever seen. They’d fallen asleep with their heads resting on each other’s shoulders, walking home in the early morning with horrendous hangovers but a burning sense of adventure inside both of their stomachs. 

“Oh, the good old days,” Kim said wistfully, “Hey, when are you coming to visit. I miss you all the way out there in Sacramento,” she said. Trixie thought she could hear movement, recognizing the sound of her screen door. 

“Maybe next month? I’ll check with Nick when I get home,” Trixie told her, blinking a little. 

“Yeah, okay,” Kim said. Her tone had changed at the mention of Nick’s name. “And how are things going, with Nick,” She asked.

“Fine,” Trixie said, sighing a little into the phone.

“Did you guys fight?” Kim asked. The movement had stilled, and Trixie found herself wishing that the phone would suddenly stop working.

“Kim, I really don’t want to talk about this right now, okay? Please?” Trixie asked.

“Did he hit you again? I’ll come up there and kill him. I swear, Trixie,” Kim said. 

“It’s fine. I handled it,” Trixie said breathlessly. She inhaled slowly, trying her best to focus on the road. 

“Trixie, you can’t just ‘handle it’, it doesn’t work like that!” Kim insisted. Trixie could hear the concern and frustration in her voice. 

“Going into a tunnel...can’t...hea- you...breaking...up…” Trixie said into the phone, waving it in front of her mouth. She pressed the red button and tossed the phone into the passenger’s seat. She couldn’t have that conversation with Kim, not right then.

When Trixie walked inside the house, plastic bag in hand, she smelled food. Good food. Her favorite food. The scent of enchiladas wafted through the kitchen into the entryway. 

She set down her purse and the plastic bag on the counter. Looking around the kitchen, mostly in bewilderment, a crease forming between her eyebrows. Her chest felt heavy, sinking to the bottom of her stomach. Trixie didn’t know what she was feeling.

“Babe, you home?” Nick called. 

He walked back in from the bedroom, Trixie’s gingham apron tied loosely over his shirt and jeans. He smiled slightly at her, “They’re in the oven. Black bean enchiladas, no chilis, I know your mom used to make them,” he said. 

“I got the shakes,” Trixie said with an exhale, gesturing to the bag on the counter. She stood still, her arms crossed over her chest. Trixie looked at him, her gaze hard. She felt like her eyes were melting.

Nick stared at the bag before he shook his head, sighing out loud. He slowly ran his hand over his face. “Baby...about earlier... I’m sorry…” he said, pausing. He walked closer to her, his fingers wavering in the air before grasping her hands, clasping them over her arms. “Just please let me make it up to you? Please?” he asked. “I want to make it up to you.”

Trixie breathed out slowly. Her throat stung, and she felt herself nodding slightly, again, staring hard at a stitch on the apron. She didn’t how how many times this had happened. Nick leaned down to give her a kiss on her cheek, pressing his nose into the side of her face. He smelled familiar, like the cologne Trixie had given him for Christmas. Trixie could feel his stubble on her cheek and felt herself leaning into him, his hands slowly circling around her, her arms pressing into his chest. Nick stood there for a moment with his eyes shut, reaching to touch Trixie’s hair and brush it behind her shoulder. “Nice apron,” she mumbled, starting to smile faintly. She rested her head on his shirt, closing her eyes. He was warm.

Nick sighed quietly and smiled, “Hey, I didn’t have a lot of options,” he told her. He pushed her hair away from her forehead, kissing each of her cheeks. 

Trixie closed her eyes, feeling Nick’s hand touching the side of her face. “Well, it really suits you. I like the pink,” Trixie told him slowly. 

Nick leaned in and kissed Trixie again, waiting until she’d opened her eyes to talk, “They’ve got a few more minutes,” he said, gesturing to the oven. “I wanna show you something though,” he told her. He took Trixie’s hand, pulling her towards the bedroom. 

The bed was made, and around it, on the nightstand and on the floor, were candles. He’d managed to clean up the laundry, which had developed the habit of laying beside the hamper, rather than inside it. 

“Like I said, I wanted to make it up to you,” Nick said. He stood behind Trixie, his hands on her shoulders. 

Trixie turned around, “You did all of this?” she asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” Nick said. He smiled at her and leaned forward, kissing her tenderly on the mouth. After a moment, Trixie took a step back, tugging Nick along with her. She ran her fingertips along his cheek, pulling him down to sit on the bed. Trixie felt warm, just for a moment, warm enough to make her lean into him, warm enough to make her lay down. They fell back onto the mattress, Trixie’s face hot as he sat up to take off his shirt. He rested his forearm on the pillow, near her head, kissing her nose and her neck and her shoulders.

“Dinner’s gonna burn,” she mumbled against him, reaching to her side to unzip her dress. Nick shook his head as he helped her take it off, leaving it on the floor.

“Baby, I don’t want dinner,” he said softly. He ran his fingers through Trixie’s hair, already smiling distantly down at her. He kissed down her arms, only getting up to unbuckle his belt.

They managed to finish before the timer went off. Trixie’s hair a mess by the time they began to eat. The enchiladas were good, maybe not as good as her mom’s, but they were good. Trixie held Nick’s hand as they ate, and she asked him about his workout, and she laughed at his jokes. It seemed alright, he seemed alright. Trixie did the dishes, Nick coming up behind her, swaying with her as she dried the plates. He tipped her chin up, leaning down to kiss her mouth.

Trixie laid in bed, the lights out in the house. Her back was pressed against Nick’s chest, his arm wrapped firmly over her side, hand resting on her waist. She could hear his snoring behind her head, soft and even with his breath. She couldn’t shake the suspicion that something was wrong with all this, that she’d made another mistake, that she’d had sex with him again, that she’d forgiven him. Trixie stared out the window, feeling a shadow from a tree outside cast over her face. She pulled the blanket up over her shoulder, pressing her face into the pillow. Trixie wanted to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie ends up drunk in a grocery store parking lot. She needs a ride, and remembers who she can call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: domestic violence

Trixie’s loud cackle rang out across the dim restaurant. Nick sat beside her, on the other side sat her mother, a slightly older, greying version of Trixie. Her hair was long, longer than Trixie’s had ever been, braided down her back. Her eyes shined, dark brown, and it was easy to see the family resemblance. She laughed like Trixie too- or more so, Trixie laughed like her, lively and animated. She liked to think they sounded like bells, or maybe really pretty ambulance sirens.

 

“You can’t say that! You raised me!” She said, moving her finished plate forward. With wide eyes, her head quirked to the side, staring indignantly at Brenda. A hinting smile grew on her face.

 

“I’m only saying that Nick here would make a very good son,” her mother insisted. She was smiling, reaching over to touch Nick’s arm.

 

“Yeah, and he has a mother, hands off, Brenda!” Trixie insisted. Her brown eyes were bright as she looked between the two of them, “Why are you smiling like that?” she asked him suddenly. She raised an eyebrow at Nick, shifting in her seat.

 

“Hey, I’m staying out of this,” he said. He cracked a grin, holding his hands up in surrender to the accusing Trixie beside him.

 

“Beatrice, leave the poor man alone,” Brenda laughed. 

 

“You can’t say he’s your favorite child,  _ Mom _ , you aren’t his mother,” Trixie grinned, “Plus, I was a perfect kid- like, the best kid anyone could ever ask for. You are talking about the man who is a  _ pharmaceutical salesman _ ,” she said, her voice reaching a soft whisper. She leaned across the table, a grin pulling at the corners of her lips.

 

Her mother gently pushed her face away with her fingertips, grinning widely at her. “Beatrice Jean, be respectful to that man,” she told her, shaking her head with a wide smile.

 

They had always been close, always had dinners or lunches at least once a week, even when they’d both been busy. Trixie loved her mom more than anyone. Easily, she was her favorite person in the world. Kim was a close second. And although Trixie liked to think that Brenda Lou Mattel had one child, she had two. One biological child, and one adopted- or soon to be, Nicholas was her favorite. Trixie was certain.

 

Nick looked offended before starting to smile. He glanced to Trixie’s mom, “I would be happy to be adopted by you, Brenda,” he told her. He turned sideways to Trixie before bursting out laughing, reaching over to put his arm around her. She rolled her eyes before smiling at him. 

 

Dinners with her mother and Nick had a way of reminding her why they were together. He was charming and sweet in those moments, and he made Trixie laugh. She liked how much her mom liked him, liked how kind he was to her. Maybe they fought sometimes, she thought, but this made sense. He was nice when they were having dinner. In those moments,  _ they  _ made sense.

 

“I hate you,” she said, giving him a hard, completely transparent glare. 

 

He squeezed her leg under the table, hard enough for Trixie to shift in her seat. She took his hand in her own, and he leaned over to kiss her cheek. 

 

“Mom, how’s work? How are the kids?” She asked, breathing in. Her smile almost unraveled around the edges, her chest rising as she inhaled. Brenda just held her hands up and started off on another story. Trixie wanted to break his hand. She peeled his fingers off her thigh and scooted in her chair.

 

The sky was darkening as they got into the car, burnt orange melting down across the horizon, like the marigolds that had grown on the windowsill when she was little. Trixie’s dress, gathered near her waist, fell to her shins as she sat down. She looked nice, and Nick did too. She’d helped him with his tie before they had gotten into the car, smoothing his shirt over his shoulders. His phone rang as he closed the door, and he rested his hand on the wheel as he answered.

 

A part of her wanted to yell at him, maybe take his phone from him and hang up- then tell him about how much of a terrible person he was and spit out all the nasty insults she could think of. Those feelings made her antsy, made her hands tense up by her sides, and she rubbed the fabric of her dress between her fingers. She supposed another part of her wanted to make everything okay, wanted to move on to another dinner, one in which nothing had happened. Trixie was tired, she felt angry to the point of exhaustion. More than anything, she wanted peace.

 

She looked out the window as they drove, her mind wandering back to her mom as the bright street lights passed by, her own reflection mirrored in the glass. She’d always liked Nick, even when she’d first met him, way back in college on spring break when he’d traveled to meet her family, when his hair had been long and a little floppy. He’d been dopey, charming almost in the way he held her hand and smiled at her. Her mom liked that. She’d said to Trixie, “Be with someone who’ll treat you right.” She knew her mom still felt guilty about her stepdad, knew she herself still did too. He’s stayed around for far too long, and that’s why she wanted Nick to be good. She leaned her head back onto the seat, eyes drifting closed until he turned into the driveway. She didn’t want her mom to think they weren’t happy. If they weren’t, what the hell had Trixie been doing for all these years- she didn’t want to think about the question or the answer.

 

She hadn’t been able to sleep right ever since they’d had sex. She found herself laying on the couch, watching television to make the evenings better. She watched The Nanny. Fran always seemed to know what she was doing. Trixie sat down in her pajamas, holding a pillow in her lap as she turned on the TV. Nick sat down next to her with a soft sigh, patting her legs with his warm hand as he typed on his phone with the other. She studied his expression but she didn’t say anything, just crossed her legs and looked back to the television. They wouldn’t talk about dinner. Halfway through the second episode Trixie fell asleep, dozing on the pillow in her arms. Nick woke her up gently, and she was greeted by the dark house, completely quiet.

 

“Come on, Trix,” he said to her quietly. 

 

She rubbed her eyes tiredly and he took her hand. 

 

They slept silently. Trixie fell asleep quickly, face already against the pillow by the time he slipped in the covers beside her, giving her head a kiss before rolling over.

 

Morning struck and Trixie held the laundry basket against her hip as she walked to the washing machine. She could hear Nick in the kitchen, making coffee and a protein shake. She turned the water on with tired eyes, pouring in detergent before throwing in the clothes, putting the last handful inside before something fell to the ground. A bra, red, with lace down the sides. She stared at it for a moment, feeling her chest tense before she bent down and picked it up, holding it in her hand. Trixie didn’t own a red bra, this one soft, and too small for her. She huffed out a quiet breath, glancing around the small room. She felt her throat beginning to stiffen, but she closed her eyes, shook her head and left the laundry basket on the ground.

 

Nick sat at the table, dressed for work, holding a cup of coffee in one of his hands, his phone in the other. He had his protein shake by his case.

 

Trixie’s chest felt tight. She felt stupid carrying the damn thing in her hand. But more than feeling stupid, she felt angry. “Did you cheat on me?” she asked, voice hard. It wavered at the end. She didn’t cry as she spoke, setting the bra down in front of his coffee.

 

“What? Trixie…” He started. He looked at her for a moment before his eyes landed on the bra on the table. 

 

“Did you cheat on me? Answer the question, Nick,” Trixie said. She was ready to yell at him, ready to shove her tears down to the bottom of her stomach. She felt the words bubbling up in her throat, along with a thousand other feelings, pressing on her tongue.

 

“Trixie, calm down,” Nick said slowly. He got up, the chair scraping on the ground. He touched her shoulders gently, trying to pull her into a hug.

 

“No, I’m not gonna calm down-” Trixie said. She shook her head quickly, looking at the ground. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, “-Stop touching me,” She told him as she felt his hands, stepping back. She slapped his hands away from her and picked the bra up. “Tell me,” she said, her voice softer. She breathed in quickly, her gaze unwavering.

 

Nick shook his head slightly, he sounded irritated, “Trix, it was one time, it doesn’t matter,” he said with an angry sigh, holding his hands up. “I was drunk, and I- I don’t even remember her.” His gaze hardened, and he almost looked guilty before he checked his phone for the time. “Shit. I have to go to work,” he told her, grimacing. 

 

“No-” Trixie told him, “-You can’t go,” he said. 

 

She let out a hard breath before her voice shook, “Why’d you do it?” She asked him, her voice quieting down. Her expression faltered, and she let out a frown, her face collapsing into pieces, “Why’d you have sex with someone else?” she asked. She quickly wiped under her eyes with the back of her hand.

 

He picked up his case and his protein shake, “Trixie, I need to go,” he said, holding his hand up again. He walked to the door, but Trixie was quick, standing in his way. 

 

“Why’d you do it?” She asked him again. Her voice cracked, and she imagined it rolling onto the ground and shattering into a million pieces, crunching as they both stepped on it. “Tell me why,” she pleaded. Her shoulders shook as she breathed in.

 

He walked around her and opened the door, “We’re not talking about this. I’m leaving for work,” he told her sternly.

 

Trixie held onto the door. She wouldn’t let him leave. “Nick, please...Just tell me, just tell me why,” she said, letting out a loud breath. She was rambling, her expression defeated.

 

He was quick to try and pull the door closed, but her hand was in the way. “Trixie…” he warned her again. She didn’t move her fingers. She blinked, tears falling down to dot her cheeks. “You can’t go,” She said again. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and she let out a defeated breath, shoulders shaking with each waiver of her voice. He was faster than her when she started to get angrier, when she began to yell, when she wouldn’t let him close the door. He slammed it on her hand as he left, pushing past her to go to his car.

 

Trixie was crying too much to slow or stop. She was quiet as she slid down to sit on the floor, pulling her legs to her chest, holding her hand close to her stomach. She threw the bra across the room with the other, holding her knees close, pressing her closed eyelids into her kneecaps. She could hear her own soft breaths, and the sniffing of her nose as she breathed in. Trixie’s shoulders shook and her throat burned and stung. She didn’t get up, she didn’t wipe her eyes, she didn’t reach to call Kim or her mother, she just cried.

 

Her phone vibrated from her pocket and she glanced up slowly, fumbling to turn it on. Raja’s message popped up on screen. 

 

Raja: You’re late for your shift. I covered for you but Shangela’s not in a good mood today, girl. 

 

Trixie’s breath caught in her throat and she swore under her breath as she got up, typing back quickly before running to get her keys. She wiped under her eyes as she walked to the car, taking in a sharp inhale and shaking her head. She was okay.  _ It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s all okay. It’s gonna be okay  _ she told herself as she drove. She didn’t have time to think anything else. Trixie pulled her hair into a ponytail and tried to put on some makeup, glancing at herself in the rearview mirror as she sat in the parking lot, looking at the big, obnoxious sign of Don’t Fret, equipped with a giant neon sign of a guitar in the window. 

 

Raja came and spoke to her once she walked inside, crowding up to her once safely behind the front desk. She leaned against the display case, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jesus, Trixie, are you okay?” she asked her softly, her eyebrows furrowed.

 

Trixie swallowed and nodded. She tried to smile, but she was almost sure it came across as a grimace. “Yeah, just a...a rough morning,” she told her, waving her hand dismissively. Her eyes were still slightly red, hair disheveled and messy. She knew she looked like a wreck.

 

Raja frowned, and shook her head, ‘What happened?” she asked her quietly, pulling her long black hair over her shoulder. She was about to take Trixie’s hand when she noticed her fingers, red, puffy, and bruised straight across her knuckles,. “Trixie…” she trailed off. She looked at her for a moment, her gaze shifting over her. 

 

She felt uncomfortable under her stare and squeezed her hand. “I’m okay,” she told her quietly. She nodded at her certainly and blinked a few times. Trixie needed to work, she needed to focus on something else- anything else. If Raja kept looking at her like that, she was going to cry.

 

They didn’t say much else. Raja didn’t press Trixie to talk about what happened. She was able to help in the back, printing out labels for new instruments for the first few hours of her shift. Soon, it was time for private lessons, and Trixie looked down at her hand, bruising a dark purple and reddening down her fingers. She sat down with Brian, a boy with dark brown mousy hair in one of the practice rooms, decorated with old vinyl along the walls. Shangela came in to check in on them, and the second she saw Trixie trying to play she just shook her head, pulling her out into the hall.

 

“Trixie, I do not know what happened. I’m not sure I want to know. You can’t play like that, girl,” she told her seriously. “Get Raja to come finish the lesson, and help in the back. Get this-” she pointed to her appearance, “Taken care of.”

 

She finished her shift in the back, watching the sun’s light dim through the big windows and sulking a little. By the time she was done, the sun still hadn’t set. She’d managed to keep herself under control all day, had tried to stay focused, typed away at the label maker, keeping her eyes on the stupid machine until they watered. Raja had brought her coffee and a sandwich at lunch. They sat together and ate quietly. She’d leaned their shoulders together, “Trixie, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here.” she’d said. 

 

The second the clock read seven, Trixie left work with alcohol on her mind. Lots of if. She needed a drink, maybe more than one. She drove with the setting sun to the grocery store, parking and attempting to avoid the presence of Robbie and Derrick, who she suspected to be lurking somewhere in the supermarket. She bought a bottle of gin and a package of Solo cups, paying a young woman with dyed hair at the cash register. Thankfully, Robbie and Derrick were nowhere to be found. 

 

She unlocked the door and sat down inside her car, finally taking a breath. She allowed herself to lean her head against the steering wheel. Her body sagged, arms folded under her forehead. Trixie reached across to the bag in the passenger’s seat and took out her bottle and a cup, pouring herself a hefty amount of gin before slouching down in her seat, watching for the second time in two days, as the sun melted, dripping down into the mountains. She drank silently, grimacing at the taste and sighing back into her seat as she felt her eyes begin to sting again. Her cup was low, and she didn’t care. She was crying again before she realized it, learning that she couldn’t hold her cup in her right hand because it hurt, then because Nick cheated on her, then because she couldn’t teach Brian, and then because she realized she couldn’t drive. 

 

Trixie wanted her mom, and she wanted to go home, she wanted to feel safe in her house and she wanted to sleep. She cried, her breath trembling as she breathed in, her shoulders quaking as she shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.  _ Fuck it.  _ She fumbled for her phone, rubbing her palms over her eyes so she could see before dialing her mother’s number with unsteady fingers. She held it to her ear, attempting to breathe normally as the ring continued. She didn’t pick up, and Trixie didn’t bother leaving a message. Next was Raja, who she felt only slightly guilty calling. She went straight to voicemail. She sighed shakily, leaning her head back against the steering wheel, closing her eyes again. What was she supposed to do? Call Nick? That wasn’t going to happen. Was she supposed to ask the cashier to drive her home? That made her want to cry again. 

 

She swore under her breath, shaking her head. She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking of someone- anyone she could call. Trixie’s grabbed her purse, finding her wallet, pulling out a wrinkled receipt and flattening it out on her leg. She squinted in the dim light, dialing the number with shaky fingers. She held the phone to her ear, leaning her head back into the seat. 

 

“Come on, Katya,” she murmured.

 

The phone clicked, “Hello?” a voice mumbled.

 

“Hey, Katya,” Trixie said quietly. She wiped under her eyes, “I-I know it’s late, but you said to call if I had a problem-”

 

“Are you okay?” Katya asked quickly. She heard shifting on the end of the line.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay and everything,” she said quietly, she sighed into the phone. “Can you pick me up?” she asked. Her voice started to shake and she bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

“Where are you?” 

 

“The parking lot, at the grocery store.”

 

“I’ll be there soon.” 

 

Trixie was quiet before she spoke, “Thank you, Katya, really.” 

 

She sat on the curb, outside of the car, holding her phone in her hand. She kept trying to pull herself together, kept trying to stop crying. A car approached, parked, and she saw someone get out as the headlights dimmed. She waved a little, not sure what else to do. 

 

“Trixie?” She called out. She came closer, and Trixie saw that she was in sweatpants, her hair pulled up into a messy bun. She wore a college hoodie, underneath was a tank top.

 

She could see her face now that she’d come closer, the street light illuminating as it turned to dark. Trixie was sure she looked like hell.

 

She got up off the curb, “Yeah,” she said. She took a deep breath in, shaking her head. “Thank you...for coming,” she told her. She tried to give her a smile.

 

Katya just shook her head, like it was nothing. Trixie got her purse and she left her car. She walked with Katya back to her Volvo and got in. There was a crystal hanging from rearview mirror, and Trixie watched as it swayed.

 

“Where are we going? Home?” Katya asked gently. She buckled her seatbelt.

 

Trixie’s face must have shown her reaction, because Katya was already nodding. “My place it is,” she told her gently, smiling softly.

 

“No- Katya, it’ll be okay, I can go home,” she said quickly. She nodded before glancing to meet her gaze.

 

Katya paused before she spoke, “Trixie, I promise it’s alright. It’s alright,” she said gently. She decided certainly she wouldn’t be taking her home.

 

Trixie looked out the window, her vision blurring for a moment. She sighed softly.

 

“Have you been drinking?” Katya asked her quietly. She turned onto the freeway.

 

She nodded.

 

She didn’t ask any more questions as they drove, just looked over at her every few minutes. Trixie rested her head against the window and tried to close her eyes, felt the lights passing over her face. 

 

Katya watched as her phone buzzed. Trixie typed on it quickly before turning it off, putting it back inside her bag. Katya nudged her gently when they got to her house and they got out of the car. Trixie followed her up a few flights of stairs to an apartment. 

 

She put down her keys and turned on the lights, taking Trixie’s purse and setting it down by her wallet. It was small, a studio, with a bed by the windows on the back wall. Off to the left was a bathroom, and opposite that was the kitchen. There was a table, and a couch, and a yoga mat. Lining one wall were books. Trixie hadn’t thought that it was possible to own that many.

 

Katya shed her sweater and tossed it on the couch. She glanced over to Trixie, “I have coffee and pajamas,” she said to her, offering a small smile. 

 

“Thank you,” Trixie said, her expression shifting into a slight, tired smile. She sat down on the couch as Katya went to the kitchen, then to her dresser, pulling out some sweatpants and a big shirt for her to wear. 

 

“You can change in the bathroom if you want, shower too. There’s makeup wipes and everything in there, left hand drawer,” she said.

 

Trixie felt bad for taking her clothes, for taking her home, and her time. But she was tired, desperately tired, and she needed to sleep. She managed to shower, closing her eyes as the hot water hit her back, wrapping around her shoulders and legs. She was fine, fine up until she’d changed, wet hair falling past her shoulders. She wiped away at the foggy mirror, taking a look at her reflection. She truly looked like a mess, with mascara clouded around her eyes and smeared eyeshadow. She rubbed at her face with the makeup wipe, swiping under her eyes to get rid of whatever was there. That’s when she began to cry, and that’s also when Katya knocked on the door.

 

“Trixie, is everything okay?” She asked quietly.

 

Trixie huffed out a breath, “Sort of,” she said. Her voice got quieter, “I don’t know. I’m trying to get my makeup off.”

 

“Can I come in?” She said after a moment. 

 

“Yeah. It’s unlocked,” Trixie told her.

 

Katya’s blonde head poked through the door, and she looked at her for a moment, letting out an exhale. She left it ajar, crossing her arms across her chest. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Let me help,” she told her softly.

 

She took a makeup wipe from the package and mumbled for Trixie to close her eyes, shifting closer to her. She was shorter than her, maybe by a few inches, but still managed to make Trixie feel like a child. With a tender hand she wiped under her eyebrows, gently holding her face still with her warm fingers. She was almost done when Trixie blinked, a tear falling onto her shirt.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching up to wipe it away with the back of her hand. She let out a quiet huff, shaking her head.

 

“Don’t be sorry,” she told her. Her hand wavered near her cheek before dropping to her side. “Are you okay?” Katya asked softy. 

 

Trixie almost nodded, imagined saying yes and thank you and leaving, excusing herself and going back to the house, sleeping beside him and forgetting that all of this had ever happened. But she didn’t want to go home. She looked at Katya, saw her concern and she felt herself shaking her head, “I don’t think so,” she said to her. She could feel all of her feelings bubbling up again, burning at the back of her throat.  

 

Katya’s eyes were soft on her. She couldn’t read her expression.

 

“What happened, Trixie?” she asked her.

 

“Which part?” She didn’t look at her yet, instead stared at a bottle of soap in the counter. It was halfway empty.

 

Katya sighed quietly, “Maybe why you got drunk in your car? Why you’re crying?” she asked gently. She didn’t know if she was overstepping, she knew she probably was. She had also just picked up a woman in a parking lot that she had only met once prior. She wasn’t in the right place to be making these judgements about herself.

 

Trixie glanced at her, “I couldn’t teach today,” she said quietly. “I teach guitar lessons, and this kid- Brian- came in today. He’s my favorite and-and I couldn’t teach him,” she said. Her vision began to swim and she closed her eyes.

 

“Why couldn’t you teach?” Katya asked her. Her eyes were warm. 

 

“We got in a fight this morning-” she started, “-and I got mad at him because I found a bra and it wasn’t mine and-” she took a deep breath, “-Nick said he wouldn’t talk about it, and he had to go to work and, and I-I wouldn’t let him. So I tried to stand in front of the door but he got around me, so I wouldn’t let him close it, but he got mad- I knew he was mad, but I was yelling at him and he just left and slammed it on me,” she rambled. By that point she was blinking, looking down to try and slow her breathing.

 

“He slammed the door on you?” She asked quietly.

 

“Yeah,” Trixie huffed out. 

 

“Can I see it?” Katya wanted to touch her hair, wanted to hug her or hold her hands- wanted to do anything other than watch her cry.  

 

Trixie held up her hand and Katya didn’t say anything. “Sit down,” she mumbled. She did what she’d asked of her and sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching as Katya dug around under the sink. She sat on the floor with a red first aid kit, looking for a band aid, maybe for an alcohol wipe. She didn’t say anything about it, just cleaned it up as much as she could. Katya crossed her legs before shifting, one knee up near her chin. She didn’t know anything about first aid and tried to think back to high school anatomy. She didn’t think her fingers were broken. 

 

“Trixie, when we were in the grocery store-” she started slowly. She shook her head after that. “Let me start over,” she told her. She thought for a moment, “When I first saw you, you looked upset.” She glanced at her again, looking into her big brown eyes while she unwrapped a band aid. “If you hadn’t gotten those protein shakes, would he have...done something to you?” she said, grimacing slightly.

 

Trixie paused, pulling her damp hair over one shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe,” she said, her eyebrows furrowing. 

 

“Has he ever done stuff like this before?” Katya asked her.

 

Trixie nodded. “I don’t let him get away with it though,” she said, like it made it better.

 

Katya put the band aid across her fingers, picking up her hand to wrap it. “He shouldn’t touch you like that in the first place.” When she looked up Trixie was glancing to the side, breathing in slowly. “Trixie, I’m sorry- it’s not my place to say that,” she told her quickly.

 

“No- I mean, you’re right, you know?” Trixie said. She tried to smile a little, “I slap him back, but I don’t think it counts,” she tells her. She laughed slightly, shaking her head. 

 

Katya wanted her to smile like that again, but she just shrugged. “I think it counts,” she told her, she offered her a small grin. 

 

She was able to get up once Katya patted her knee, told her she was  _ good as new _ and put the red box away. She followed her out of the bathroom. She’d put some blankets on the couch with a pillow, and Trixie was about to sit down with her stuff before she was shaking her head, “Barbie sleeps in the bed,” she’d said. 

 

Katya brought her coffee, sat on the edge of the bed with her. They didn’t talk really, it was too late for much of that. Trixie drank quietly, and Katya messed with the fringe on the blanket. She waited until she was done with the mug to take it to the kitchen. Katya watched from the sink as she got under the blankets, turned off the lamp and looked out the window, head pressed into the pillow in her lap. She didn’t lay down. Katya went to the couch in the dark, pulling the blanket over her shoulder. 

 

“Hey Katya?” Trixie called out.

 

Katya felt her heartbeat in her chest. “Yeah?” she answered. 

 

“Could you sleep over here?” she asked. Her voice was earnest, but she didn’t sound like she was crying.

 

“Yeah,” Katya answered again. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and went to the bed, climbing in beside her, sitting next to her in the dark, her legs folded. Trixie was motionless for a moment before she turned to Katya in the darkness. She could barely make out her face, couldn’t even read her expression. Katya couldn’t see if she was crying, but she could heard her breath, uneven and wavering in the quiet. There was a beat of silence, in which they were both motionless, before Katya reached over, pulling her into a hug,  _ come here _ , she’d murmured. It was quiet other than the two of them, and Katya could feel her breath on her shoulder, soft and trembling. It broke her heart, made her chest ache and sink down to the pit of her stomach. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Trixie told her quietly.

 

Katya breathed out in the darkness, closing her eyes as she heard her voice. She shushed her softly, “It’s okay,” she told her, shaking her head. She felt her shoulders shake, “It’s all okay,” she said again. Her arms tightened around her, and she held her as she began to cry.

 

Eventually Trixie pulled away. She slowly got under the blankets and turned on her side, facing the window. Her head was turned the other direction, but even in the darkness Katya could see her hair, spilling over the pillow like liquid gold. She shifted slightly to lie on her back, waiting until she could hear her that her breathing had settled and slowed. Katya faced the other direction and closed her eyes, pressing her face into the pillow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun still hid behind the clouds, the water reflecting the stark gray of the sky, dripping down into the sea so far away that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other. The sand was grainy and soft beneath their feet, water leaking up to their heels as they left footprints behind them. Trixie’s skirt blew lightly in the wind, small red stripes lining the length of her legs standing out against the bland colors of their surroundings.
> 
> “Trixie, I don’t think your mother will hate you,” Katya said to her. She stared intently at the woman beside her, eyebrows furrowed deeply in concern. “How could she?” she asked.
> 
> Trixie’s brown eyes met Katya’s and her expression softened, like a flower, wilting slightly around the edges. “She thinks we’re happy,” she said breathlessly. “She thinks I found a good guy that makes me happy- and treats me right- and-” her shoulders fell, “-She thinks I’m happy,” she told her, words flowing out like the tide, rushing, rushing, rushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the chapter! It's been quite a while since the update!

Trixie rolled over onto her side, breathing in softly through her nose. She awoke with the sudden realization that she wasn’t at home, through the feeling of the pillow pressed against her cheek and the blanket tangled between her legs. It was all different. Sunlight came pouring in through the window, shining over onto the pillows and blanket as her eyes blinked open, landing on the bedside table to a long abandoned glass of water.

She sat up slowly, and with tired eyes looked over, finding the other half of the bed empty, a faint imprint left in the mattress. And with tired confusion, the previous night came rushing back into her mind. She was greeted by a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach, she wondered how long Katya had been awake. Her throat felt dry, and she was struck with the sudden feeling of intrusion that washed over her. Trixie could hear clanking in the kitchen, thought that it was probably what had woken her up. She hauled herself up from the blankets with an aching head, rubbing her eyes.

Katya was busy with the coffee machine in the kitchen. As soon as Trixie walked in she tried a smile, the edges of her lips tilting up. “Morning,” she’d told her quietly. She lingered near the counter before she sat down at the small table, her chair scooting on the tile floor.

Oddly, Katya looked only slightly more awake than she had the night before, and she was wearing glasses, a new addition that Trixie hadn’t seen previously. The sweatpants were gone, and she’d put on leggings, accompanied by a blue sweatshirt. She set a cup of coffee down in front of Trixie, sitting down across from her.

“Thank you,” she said softly. There was a period of silence, Trixie had been able to feel Katya’s eyes lingering on her, pressing into her face. “Katya, listen,” she told her. She sighed. “I-”

“Don’t apologize,” Katya interrupted quickly. She looked at her, her gaze earnest, “Seriously, don’t do it. If you try to say you’re sorry for staying or whatever I’m kicking you out-” she told her, “-without the coffee,” she added. She cracked a small, gentle smile, crossing her legs under the table. Trixie could see that she was wearing slippers.

Her lips hinted at a slight grin, and she nodded after that. “Thank you, though. For everything. I mean it,” she said. Her eyes were warm but avoidant. She focused on the white cabinets behind Katya’s head instead of her face. Trixie felt, again, like she was intruding, maybe on some secret morning ritual, maybe just in Katya’s life. Everything had seemed so calm until she’d gone wrecking through it. Trixie had just barged in- she hadn’t know anything about this woman, and yet, Trixie had cried in front of her, they’d already shared a _bed_ , and, well hell, she even knew about Nick. Trixie’s head was spinning too fast for the time and she drank a long sip of her coffee. Maybe, she thought, it would make her sane.

Katya just shrugged. “I told you to call me. I meant it,” she said. She didn’t look at Trixie, her gaze landing on the fridge. “Do you want creamer or something? I have sugar too.”

Trixie hadn’t answered before Katya had gotten up to the fridge and plopped sugar and creamer on the table. She seemed jumpy. Maybe Katya _did_ want her to leave. Maybe Trixie was too much for her to handle, she certainly didn’t blame her. “How long have you been up?” she asked, letting out a quiet sigh. She poured creamer into her mug, watching the satisfying sight as the colors mixed together before stirring the sugar in with a spoon. She put it aside, wrapping her hands around the warm mug and holding it close to her face.

“A few hours,” Katya said. She stared at Trixie for a moment, her blue eyes looking right through her. “I couldn’t sleep though. You know, school and stuff,” she shrugged. Her gaze lingered on Trixie before she motioned over to the laptop resting on the counter.

“What are you working on?” she asked her. She craned her neck to look at the open document.

“Thesis,” Katya yawned. “I hate that stupid bitch,” she said. She touched her face, rubbing her eyes gently under her glasses. It was only morning and Katya already looked tired, faint circles resting under her wide eyes. Trixie thought she could spot at least two other mugs in the kitchen- she had easily been awake for a few hours.

She smiled a little at Katya’s obvious hatred for the laptop in the corner. “What are you studying?” Trixie asked her. Her head tilted to the side as she spoke.

“Psychology- trying to get the old master’s,” Katya said. She ran a hand through her tangled hair, “Not sure if it’ll ever get done though, I’ll probably end up dead in a ditch somewhere before it’s finished.”

Trixie’s expression melted into a smile again and she held her mug in her hands, looking down to the picture on the side of the ceramic. “You should get some rest every once in a while, you know,” she told her gently.

Katya looked to be pondering what Trixie said before shrugging. “Maybe,” she said to her. She glanced at her fondly through her glasses. “So what are your plans for today?” She asked her.

Trixie shook her head, “I hadn’t really thought about it. At some point, I’ll have to talk to-” she shrugged after that, “-you know- but that can wait until later. I’m-” she sighed, “I’m happy to be here, even if it’s just for the morning,” she told her. Her breathing was short, and her eyes flicked to meet Katya’s.

Katya inhaled quickly. Suddenly, she looked determined. “We’re going to do something fun today,” she said certainly.

“Something fun?” Trixie asked her. She looked confused, “Why?”

“Because, I want you to have some fun in your life- some good, old fashioned fun,” Katya said as she got up. She took her cup to the sink. “You need to live a little, Trixie,” she told her with a smile, glancing over her shoulder. She went into the bathroom, and before long Trixie could hear the water running.

Katya rubbed her face under the steady stream of water. She’d told Trixie she hadn’t been able to sleep, and that part had been true, _and_ her thesis _was_ driving her crazy, that was also true. But she hadn’t woken up because of it, and she hadn’t spent the early hours of the morning toiling away at it on her laptop. She _had_ , however, taken slight glances at the sleeping Trixie in her bed, she _had_ debated figuring out who this Nick guy was and _personally_ killing him. She hadn’t, though. She hadn’t gone into her flowery bag and dug around until she found some “clue” or _turned on_ her _turned off_ phone and given him a piece of her mind.

She’d been about to call Sasha to talk when Trixie had come padding into the small kitchen. Katya hadn’t mentioned how bad and how deeply Trixie seemed to be hurting, she hadn’t mentioned the night before, how tight her hands were when they hugged. Katya merely gave her coffee and she tried to make her smile because God, if that wasn’t the prettiest thing she’d seen in years.

Katya didn’t know what she was doing, even as she rubbed shampoo into her scalp and eventually gave up on shaving her legs. She didn’t know what she was going to do about Trixie- she didn’t know if she could help, she didn’t know if she wanted it or how she could even if she _did_ want it. She felt stuck in her own head, felt for the first time like the words wouldn’t come out properly. Maybe they just couldn’t.

Katya turned off the water and grabbed her robe, wrapping it around herself, then took a towel and rubbed it across her face. She didn’t want Trixie to know how concerned she was, it scared her a little- how little she knew about this woman’s life, and about her- and yet how much she cared. Because she did care, she really, really did, in a way she hadn’t felt herself care in a long time.

Katya eventually found herself in her slightly damp robe, staring at her closet with her arms crossed across her chest. Trixie had moved to sit on the bed behind her, still in the clothes in she’d slept in.

“What are you thinking for today?” she asked her.

Katya looked over, “You mean outfit-wise?” she asked.

Trixie nodded. Katya watched her pull her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Maybe this shirt?” she held up a button up, and then a pair of jeans, “I don’t know, I’m not really feeling it today, you know?” she sighed. “You should look through here, though. Pick out something you want to wear,” she told her.

Trixie nodded, wondering if anything would fit her properly. It might- Katya had a disaster of a closet, clothes shoved in every nook and cranny she could spot from her place on the bed. Something in there was bound to be her size.

“You got anything pink?” Trixie asked with a slight smile.

Katya paused as her eyebrows furrowed, and she pushed aside some hangers, pulling out a t-shirt- hot pink- with a large black panther holding a sword on the front.

“This is what I have. Cute, right?” Katya asked her. She stared at her sincerely for a moment, watching Trixie’s expression shift before breaking into a laugh. “I promise you don’t have to wear it. It’s from like a million years ago,” she said. She tossed it to the bed before digging around again.

Trixie picked up the shirt, looking at the large cat and print over the chest: Westerfeld Fencing Team.

“You fenced?” She asked, grinning widely. She almost laughed before Katya reached over to try and snatch back the shirt.

“Shut up,” Katya said with a large smile.

Trixie pulled the shirt away with admirable effort, laughing as she held it close to her chest. Katya screeched out a prehistoric laugh and tried to pry her hands apart. She was met by a very determined Trixie, who held it away from her. She panted softly with a quiet sigh and rolled her eyes.

“If you laugh, you’re dead,” she said. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Trixie through her light eyelashes. A grin remained on her lips.

Trixie shook her head, “No, no, no,” she said, “I like it a lot. Very…unique,” she told her. She almost laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Unique my ass. It’s legendary,” Katya said with a proud expression. She stood in front of Trixie, her hands on her hips for a moment before moving to sit beside her, crossing one leg over the other. She pulled the towel from her hair and flipped it to one side before letting out a soft exhale.

“It is,” Trixie said softly. She sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“That’s- That’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh like that,” Katya said. She hadn’t been able to trap the words under her tongue before they came out, and she watched as Trixie’s expression dulled a little.

Her smile faded around the edges and she shrugged a little, “My mom and I have the same laugh- like an ambulance or something,” she said fondly.

Katya just nodded, “My sister and I have the same laugh, just like my dad. I think the smoking lung is hereditary,” she told her. She wanted to reach over and hug her, maybe hold her hand- she didn’t know what Trixie was thinking about, didn’t know what was making that smile fade.

An air of quiet hung between the two of them, just for a moment until Trixie pressed a smile back onto her face. “I’m gonna change,” she told her. She left Katya sitting on the bed.

Trixie’s chest felt heavy as she changed into the shirt. All too familiar, she heard Katya knock on the door. “Hey, this would look cute with the shirt, tuck it in or something,” she said. The door cracked open and she leaned in to give her a skirt- white and long, made out of something that looked like linen. Trixie wasn’t sure but she sure as hell wasn’t about to ask.

The next time Katya saw Trixie her hair was in a long braid down her back. She was putting on her shoes by the couch.

“So where are we going again?” She asked Katya.

Katya’s head snapped up, “That’s a surprise.” She said it like it was a given, as if there was no alternative in the world.

“Swimsuit or no swimsuit?” Trixie asked. She looked amused.

“It depends,” Katya mused, she shrugged exaggeratedly, “I mean, if you want to have _real_ fun, I would,” she told her. Her head poked up and she grinned.

Trixie laughed a little, “So no to a swimsuit. What about a jacket? Maybe my fire-resistant coat?” She asked her. She wandered over to grab her purse and pulled it over her shoulder.

“Again, Tracy, it’s all up to you!” Katya called.

Trixie grinned again and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Knowing what little she did about Katya, she hoped that whatever their plans were, they didn’t end up dead or injured, or in a ditch. She watched as Katya went to the kitchen to put two croissants in a little plastic bag, tucking them inside her bag.

Once they were outside, Katya took a quick left out of the apartment complex to the car, Trixie left to trail quickly behind her until she caught up.

“Are you taking me to the woods?” Trixie asked her. “Are you gonna kill me and cut me up and hide my body inside of a tree trunk?” She questioned.

Katya just laughed as she opened the car, smiling at Trixie over the roof. “I should be asking you the same thing! A strange, beautiful woman, with a dark sense of humor-” she quirked her eyebrow, “I feel like you’re the murderer in this scenario,” she said. She ducked her head inside and laughed as she bucked her seatbelt.

Trixie got inside the car and pulled the door closed, rolling her eyes, “You’re Russian, I’m pretty sure that wins you the ‘ _more likely to kill badge_ ’,” she said.

Katya wiggled her eyebrows at her as the car rumbled on, turning her keys in the ignition. “Can you hand me the fourth album? It’s the one with the blue case,” she asked her, craning her neck behind her right shoulder as they pulled out.

“Katya.”

“Hm?”

“This is the Mama Mia soundtrack,”

“I know,”

Trixie burst into a large grin, “I fucking told you! All you ever fucking listen to is ABBA!” She began, turning sideways in her seat to look at her expectantly.

Katya just smiled very softly. “Can you please put it in?” She asked her. She bit down on her tongue to keep from laughing.

Trixie shook her head with as smile as she put the CD in.

“It’s the 6th track,” Katya said. She glanced over to Trixie again, giving her her most winning smile.

“You are dumb,” Trixie said.

“I am a music connoisseur,” Katya replied.

Katya gripped the steering wheel loosely with her red fingers as they drove, peeking her head forward over the wheel to look at the sky. It was foggy that day, the slow hills in the distance washed with gray.

“I’m glad you brought sandals,” she told Trixie.

Trixie’s face scrunched up slightly, “What does that mean?” She asked.

Katya just broke into another smile (Trixie was beginning to think she had an unlimited supply) and reached over to turn the music up. She looked beside her to Trixie and sang to her- because although she hadn’t seen her dance, and she certainly wasn’t seventeen, she was still very magical. Trixie just laughed, blonde wavy hair smooshed back against the seat, that pretty smile back on her face.

“Is this it?” Trixie asked as they turned a corner. She looked out the window, pointing to the collection of cars lined up against the side of the road. From what she could see, they were near the beach, the dusty sky connecting to the water in the distance.

Katya nodded as they parked. “It’s really nice when the weather’s like this,” she told her.

Trixie nodded as she got out of the car, skirt swishing slightly in the breeze as she held her hands to shield her eyes through the fog, squinting to the faint outline of hills in the distance, clouded by a dull mist. “It’s so pretty,” she called back.

“Come on,” Katya said. She grinned and walked ahead of her, padding down a trail closer to the water. “It’s this way though,” she then pointed near a rocky hill.

Trixie followed Katya’s blonde braid up the small hill, reaching down to steady herself as she climbed rocks to reach the top. The wind pulled at her hair, tangling the small strands in the air. She couldn’t find the urge to do something with it, instead watching Katya move with slight effort until they reached the top.

The two of them were mostly silent. Katya could hear the wind and the soft sound of the sea, quiet waves hitting the rocks far below.

“Do you come here a lot?” Trixie called ahead.

Katya turned around for a second and shook her head. She’d paused walking, one foot resting on a rock. “Just to talk it out I guess, when I need to. I like to watch the sunrise,” she told her.

Trixie looked at the view and squinted, “I see why,” she said. She glanced back to Katya and smiled, noticing the few shorter bits of her light blonde hair pulled loose out of her braid around her face. She looked different without makeup, not better, not worse, just different, she thought, maybe softer.

“Come on,” she beckoned, “You look like you’re trying to solve for pi or something,” Katya said, breaking into a grin.

The walk continued until Katya declared they could sit, backs pressed up against a large rock with a view overlooking the water. Although they weren’t far up, Trixie felt like they were on top of the world, able to see the dull waves rushing forward to meet the sand, and the sound of them crashing into the ground. It was foggy too, a large gray blanket quilting into the landscape as far as she could see.

“Here,” Katya said. She handed Trixie a croissant from her bag. She shifted slightly and breathed in before tearing a bite of the bread.

“Do you do this to all the wandering women you meet?” Trixie asked with a smile.

Katya swallowed a bite of food. “Only to the ones who look _really_ desperate,” she said. She hid her grin with a cough.

“You bitch!” Trixie said. She shoved Katya over into the dirt, letting a screeching cackle out into the wind.

Katya caught herself with her forearm and sat back up, a glinting smile in her eyes. She steadied her shoulder against Trixie’s and breathed in deep, beginning to lock eyes with a stray thread of her shirt, tugging for freedom from the hem of her sleeve. Her hair blew lightly in her face, blonde strands dancing lightly in the breeze. She was beginning to think she should have brought a jacket.

Trixie blinked lightly and folded her legs to the side, letting her head tilt back against the rock with a faint thud. “You think I should tell my mom?” she asked suddenly.

Katya’s head poked to attention. “Huh?” she said.

Trixie sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears, tentative fingers lingering in her hair. “I mean tell her about Nick,” she said. Her face scrunched up slightly and she sniffed through her nose.

Katya could see the faint freckles sprinkled over her nose and cheeks, soft, like she could feel Trixie was. Her shoes scrunched on the pebbles as she brought her knees to her chest. “Do you want to tell her?” she asked. She rested her head sideways on her knees, gazing at Trixie beside her.

Trixie nodded before she could think too much, “I want to tell her,” she said slowly, “I really want to tell her, but.. I don’t want her to hate me,” she said. She let out a heavy breath, her chest falling as she stared at the ground.

A chilly wind blew through, and Trixie rubbed her shoulders with her hands.

“Here, let’s walk. It’ll be warmer,” Katya said. She got up and held her hands out for Trixie to pull on. They trailed back down the hill, mostly quiet until they reached the bottom, Katya telling her that they could walk on the beach if they wanted to, and receiving a nod from Trixie in response. The two of them sat in the sand to take off their shoes, brushing clean the small sediments from their clothes to join the tide, walking near enough to the sea to feel the dampness of the water washing over their feet.

The sun still hid behind the clouds, the water reflecting the stark gray of the sky, dripping down into the sea so far away that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other. The sand was grainy and soft beneath their feet, water leaking up to their heels as they left footprints behind them. Trixie’s skirt blew lightly in the wind, small red stripes lining the length of her legs standing out against the bland colors of their surroundings.

“Trixie, I don’t think your mother will hate you,” Katya said to her. She stared intently at the woman beside her, eyebrows furrowed deeply in concern. “How could she?” she asked.

Trixie’s brown eyes met Katya’s and her expression softened, like a flower, wilting slightly around the edges. “She thinks we’re happy,” she said breathlessly. “She thinks I found a good guy that makes _me_ happy- and treats me right- and-” her shoulders fell, “-She thinks _I’m_ happy,” she told her, words flowing out like the tide, _rushing, rushing, rushing._

Katya exhaled quietly through her nose. “You know,” she started slowly, “When I told my mother I was gay, I knew she would be angry, I just knew it,” she said with a shrug. “And, I guess I also thought that a part of her would hate me-” she glanced over to Trixie, soft eyes trailing over her face, “And I think a part of her may have, but the point is- the thing that she was most angry about was that I’d been hiding it for so long, not that I like women,” Katya said. She touched the gold bracelet around her wrist. “She’ll be glad you told her, Trixie. I promise,” she said.

Trixie slowed to a stop as Katya finished. The wind whipped through her hair, pulling it free from the loose ponytail near the base of her neck. It crowded her face, and she reached up to tuck it behind her ears, sandals dangling in the hand near her leg. “I know it’s stupid- but I’m scared,” Trixie said. “I’m really, really scared and I don’t want her to think I’m dumb or weak-” she said quickly, her forehead creasing. “I just- I don’t know,” she sighed heavily, “I’m angry, and I’m confused and- and I’m just-” she glanced to Katya, standing in front of her, and she just nodded as she spoke, and when Trixie was finished, when she exhaled out into the wind, it was her who took her shoulders in her hands.

“Let it out,” she told her.

“What?” Trixie asked. Her chest rose and fell and her expression shifted from exhaustion to confusion.

Katya just shook her head, looking her straight in the eyes. “Let it out,” she said. She turned Trixie by her shoulders to face the ocean and the blinding wind, pointing to the rolling waves in the distance. “Let it all out, Trixie,” she said to her.

And before Trixie could quite comprehend what they were doing, Katya was yelling, screaming out into the distance so far she was sure they could be heard miles away. The wind pressed against her eyes until they watered, her lips chapping from the cold. She took one last glance towards Katya, knees bending from the weight of her voice, and started to yell, started shouting out into the ocean until her voice broke, and then she hollered some more, all until her knees fell into the damp sand, until she couldn’t yell anymore.

Katya was panting softly, shoes long abandoned from her hands, and she fell beside Trixie in the sand. She was still for a moment, and then she began to smile softly. Trixie leaned back slightly when Katya hugged her, chest still rising and falling as she found her breath again. She even started to smile too, eyes pressed closed as she hugged Katya with her tired hands, feeling the warmth of her through her shirt, the slight pressure of her hands pressing into her back.

They stayed like that for a few moments, calming their breaths, gently leaning into each other’s shoulders until reality slowly leaked back into their minds. Trixie pulled away first, her grip on Katya’s shirt loosening as she began to smile. “You want some coffee?” she asked, her smile spreading into a crooked grin.

Trixie could feel something inside of her chest, something that didn’t make her shoulders sag or her heart sink. It made her feel hopeful- just enough to see herself just a little bit differently. With tired, clamoring legs, she rose from the sand, pulling Katya along with her. She knew then, that although nothing had really changed, she knew what to do. She knew what to do.

She clasped Katya’s hand in hers as they walked back to the car, the wind pushing against their backs as they stepped carefully through the sand, leaning against one another with tired smiles.

Katya had been truthful when she’d told Trixie that she went to the beach to watch the sunrise- because she really did, and if it happened to end with her screaming out a big _“fuck you!”_ to sobriety into the ocean… well that was that. She didn’t want to say that it had been her plan all along though, because it really hadn’t. What she’d wanted was for Trixie to get herself back. She wanted to help her _feel_ something, wanted her to let go of everything she was scared about, everything that worried her or angered her. She wanted to be there as a friend, wanted to help her as much as she could.

Trixie felt like she had just woken up- like she had just been jolted awake from a nap that she hadn’t any clue as to how long she’d been taking. She felt like she could cry, like she could finally breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Please tell me what you think on here and on tumblr @crochet-you-stay

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me feedback and comments here, or come yell at me on Tumblr at @crochet-you-stay


End file.
